Mizard In Wonderland
by MishaMuse
Summary: A companion story to Mizard of Odd. Miz finds himself in Wonderland after following Sheamus and Pixie into a mysterious room after a Raw show. Wonderland silliness ensues.  Happy 180th birthday, Lewis Carroll!
1. Miz Sees The Light

A/N: I mentioned some time ago my desire to write my Mizard characters into a Wonderland setting. What better time to start than Lewis Carroll's birthday? I plan on running this story between now (1/27/12) and April Fool's Day (4/1/12). I own Pixie. I hope you enjoy it! And remember folks, it's all in good fun. :)

Mizard in Wonderland

Chapter 1: Miz Sees The Light

Despite the roar of the crowd and the matches playing on Raw live, Miz was bored. He had already had his segment and he didn't have a match tonight, so he was stuck in the locker room, waiting for the show to be over. "Stupid management," he muttered, glaring at the door. "Making me come in and sit in the stupid locker room with nothing to do."

The ever-cheerful John Morrison smiled at his friend. "Cheer up. At least we can have a poker game after. I invited Hornswoggle this time."

Miz groaned in frustration. "Why?" he asked. "You know how much I hate playing cards with him! He always distracts me and I lose!"

"Why do you think I keep inviting him?" Morrison asked with a grin. Miz turned his glare to his friend, but it didn't help. Morrison remained as cheerful as ever. "Hey, did I tell you about that girl who stopped me in the parking lot last week?"

"Only like sixty times," Miz said.

"Yeah, okay. So anyway, I was in the parking lot…"

Miz flopped back onto the bench and put his arm over his eyes, tuning Morrison out. He wanted to think about something other than some weird girl who asked Morrison for his autograph. The droning sound of his friend's voice and the lack of sleep the previous evening took its toll and before Miz knew it, his eyes slid closed and he was fast asleep.

^%^

"Miz!" The voice was accompanied by a sharp, biting pain in his arm, like ant stings.

"Ow!" Miz yelped, leaping up and staring at the bench. A small tabby cat sat there, calmly looking up at him. "What the hell?"

"You were sleeping, and it's time to get up. Raw's over, and we need to go back to the hotel."

Miz frowned at the cat. "Pixie? Is that you?"

"Duh. Do you know any other talking cats?"

"I… no." Miz shook his head, hoping it would clear up and the cat would be gone. No such luck.

"What are you waiting for?" Pixie demanded. "Let's go already!" Miz sighed and scooped up the kitten. He set her in his gym bag, and Pixie poked her head out, staring contentedly at the world. "That's better," she said.

"I must be going crazy again," Miz muttered.

"No more than usual," said the cat. "Can we get tuna on the way back to the hotel?"

"Why not?" Miz said. He pushed open the locker room door and was nearly bowled over by Sheamus. "Hey, watch where you're going!"

Sheamus turned his head, still hurrying away. "Terribly sorry, fella, but I'm late."

"Late for what, I wonder?" Pixie said.

"Everyone's always in a hurry to get out of the arena when a show's over," Miz said.

"I say we follow him."

"What? No, Pixie. We are not…" That was as far as Miz got before Pixie disentangled herself from his bag and leapt down.

"Come on, Miz!" she called, running at full speed after Sheamus.

"Pixie!" he yelled, bolting after his feline companion. "Stop!"

Sheamus turned a corner and Pixie followed. With a sigh, Miz followed the two of them. When the Celtic Warrior reached the end of the new hall, he paused and turned back to stare at Miz. His face had changed, almost as though it had melted. Indeed, to Miz he looked more like a rodent than a man. "I'm late!" he squealed before throwing open the door and darting inside. Pixie didn't hesitate; the tabby cat threw herself into the darkened room after him.

"Oh hell," Miz muttered, reaching in to find a light switch. There wasn't any. "Maybe it's further in." And with that, he took a step into the darkness and began to fall.

^%^

It wasn't so much of a rabbit hole, Miz would think later, as a straight down cave that had improbably found itself attached to an arena in some major city. Not that he could remember what city it was as he fell in slow motion. He did, however, manage to catch the cat who'd started all the trouble. He tucked a protesting Pixie safely back into his bag. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt on this fall."

"Don't you know that cats always land on their feet?" Pixie asked, poking her head out of the bag again. "I'll be fine."

"Still," Miz said, "I'm not taking any chances. What if you're wrong about cats landing on their feet? What if I butter toast and tie it to your back? Then you would land butter side down and where would we be?"

"First," said the cat, annoyed, "that hasn't been proven. That we cats always land on our feet has. And second, do not tie anything to my back, especially buttered toast. It sounds extremely unpleasant and I do not think I would like it much."

"Cats are always so particular," Miz grumbled.

Pixie let out a little sniff. "Only when you don't listen to us." She reached a paw from the bag and used it to point down. "Look, I think I see Sheamus."

"Did he look weird to you?" Miz asked.

"Of course," said Pixie. "He's a human. You all look weird to me. No real fur to speak of, and you're long and gangly. It's unsightly."

"I meant, did he look like he was changing into something else? A rabbit, maybe?'

"Oh, that," said the cat dismissively. "You can't expect everything to be the way you want it all the time, can you?"

"What do you mean?" Miz asked with a frown.

"I mean, some cats are black and some are not. Some people are vipers and some are rabbits."

"What does Randy have to do with this?"

"Who mentioned Randy?"

"You said vipers…"

"Sometimes, Miz, you're too figurative. I was being literal." Miz tried to puzzle that out, but before he could, his feet touched down gently on the earthy floor. "Oh, good," said Pixie. "I was tired of falling, anyway. Can we see what Sheamus is up to now, please?"

With a bemused look, Miz followed the Celtic Warrior down the corridor.


	2. Miz Makes Friends

A/N: I'm spry about the massive delay on this story (and every other story). My life imploded about a month ago and left me picking through the shrapnel for anything worth keeping. My original plan for this story was tp write and post it between Lewis Carroll's birthday in January and April Fool's Day. It was a good thought, and if I'd tried to do it any other year, it probably would have worked. However, I'm still dealing with the move from Hell and I won't have it done by the finish date… which means it'll run until it's done, however long that takes. Anyway, on to the story!

A/N: I own Pixie. I hope you enjoy it! And remember folks, it's all in good fun. :)

Mizard in Wonderland

Chapter 2: Miz Makes Friends

Sheamus brushed past a hulking shadow at the end of the hall and disappeared from sight. "Now what?" Miz asked Pixie.

"We follow him, of course," Pixie said.

"I want to get out of here," Miz said to the kitten. "Not go further in."

"He'll probably know the way out," said the cat reasonably.

"Right." Miz sighed. They walked down to the end of the hall, where Sheamus had disappeared. "I don't see him anywhere."

"He probably went through the door," said Pixie.

"What door?"

The shadows shifted beside them. One of them exclaimed, "I'm a door!" Miz jumped and let out a girly squeak. Pixie snickered.

"What the hell?" Miz demanded. "Mark, is that you?"

Mark Henry beamed at Miz. "I'm not Mark. I'm a door!"

"Okay then," Miz muttered, glaring at the "door". "I was following Sheamus…"

"You mean the white rabbit?" Mark interjected.

"Uh, sure. Him. Anyway, he got down here and vanished. Where did he go?"

"Through me," said Mark happily. "I'm a door!"

"Yeah, you mentioned that," Miz said. "Okay. So how do I go through you?"

Mark looked puzzled. "Don't you know how to go through a door?"

"Not in this case, no."

"Did you try knocking?"

"You… want me to hit you?"

"Of course not! That would be rude!"

"Then how am I supposed to knock?"

"Try saying 'knock, knock'," Pixie advised.

"That's ridiculous," Miz said. "How is saying 'knock, knock' going to help me?"

"Come in!" Mark chirped, moving aside to reveal a doorway behind him. Miz stared.

"What did I tell you?" Pixie asked. "You just have to know how to knock." Miz grumbled, but followed the little tabby cat through the doorway into another hallway.

"Good luck!" Mark called before he shuffled back in front of the entry, cutting off the light. Pixie's eyes glinted in the darkness, then took on a yellow green phosphorous glow, like twin fireflies in the darkness. The very ends of her fur glowed like fiber optic wires, giving the whole cat an eerie, surreal look.

"That's handy," Miz said. "But why are your eyes glowing like that, Pixie?"

"I accidentally swallowed an old DX glow stick the other day. I guess it finally broke."

Miz gave the cat an alarmed look. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Well, it was unpleasant at first, but it's probably not going to kill me, if that's what you're asking. It does feel a bit like stomach acid, though. More annoying than anything. I'm sure I'll get over it, in time."

"Good, because I somehow doubt I could find you a vet down here."

"Any vet you found me here would be more likely to kill me than to cure me, I think." She paused, pointing a dainty glowing paw. "Look! There he is!"

Sure enough, Sheamus paced the hallway further on. "I'm late!" the rabbity man cried out in dismay.

"I wonder what he's late for?" Miz asked.

"A chance to make his mark in the WWE?" Pixie guessed.

"Wow," said Miz. "That was harsh, Pixie."

"Cats only speak the truth, Miz." She stared at Sheamus, then crouched, her rump wriggling.

"What are you doing?" Miz demanded.

"Hunting for answers." She wriggled again and pounced. Before she could make contact, however, Sheamus spotted her and let out a shriek before jumping into the air and rabbiting away. "Blast it!" The glowing kitten turned to Miz. "This is all your fault, you know."

"What?" Miz blinked at her. "What do you mean, it's my fault?"

"You're not quiet enough to hunt down a wild Sheamus." She groomed her paw, pausing for a moment to fix Miz with a hard stare. "In fact, I don't even know why you're here. You're making a nuisance of yourself. Nothing but endless hallways. Dead ends."

"I'm sorry," Miz said. "I don't know why you're so angry at me…"

The cat sat up, her ears rotating. "Shh! Do you hear that?"

"No?" Miz said, straining to hear anything at all.

"Human ears are so useless," said the cat with a sigh. "But that's all right. I can hear it for both of us." And with that, Pixie jumped up and started running down the hallway.

"What do you hear?" Miz called after her, sprinting to try and keep up.

"I don't have time to try and explain it to you," said the cat huffily. "Just try to keep up and when we get there, you'll see where we're going."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Miz said, but he put his head down and ran anyway. It seemed like an eternity, but when he looked up again, he was no longer in a corridor. Instead, he was in an old growth forest with trees that seemed to reach higher than he could see. "Pixie?" he called, but the little cat was nowhere to be found. The forest was eerily silent and dark. The more he concentrated, however, the more he realized that there were sounds. They were muted and barely there, just under the surface of the silence. "Now what do I do?" he asked, sliding to sit on the ground beside a tree. "I've lost Pixie and I don't know where I am at all."

"Some people would say that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity," came a voice from above him, causing him to jump and look around. "I say it's a sign that you're in good company."

"Who are you?" Miz demanded. And then, because he couldn't find the one who'd spoken, he added, "Where are you?"

A chuckle met his questions. Then the voice took on a thunderous quality. "Who am I? I am a beacon for lost souls. I am illumination on a dark night. I am the devourer of evil and the war hammer of good. And I'm right behind you."


	3. Miz Asks For Help

A/N: I own Pixie. I hope you enjoy it! And remember folks, it's all in good fun. :)

Mizard in Wonderland

Chapter 3: Miz Seeks Help

Miz yelped and turned, expecting to meet someone who meant him harm. Another chuckle filtered to him through his panic. "Show yourself!"

"You are a funny little man," said the voice, and as he watched, a pair of hazel eyes separated themselves from the darkness in the trees. Miz squinted and was able to make out a shape, reclining on a branch above him. The man had dark hair with furry little ears poking out, and a strange outfit that looked like fur with patterns in it. He couldn't make them out in the darkness, but as he watched, the man seemed to stand out more and become more vibrant. "Quite jumpy."

"I'm lost," Miz said. "I need to find my cat, Pixie."

"Cat?" the man said, raising his eyebrows at the word. "I will help you."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"Are you the caterpillar?" asked the man, rolling his eyes. "He's always asking that, as well, even though I tell him every day. Don't be a bore, funny little man. I dislike questions of that nature. They're too straightforward." Miz looked puzzled, which drew a sigh from the man. "Very well. If you must know, I'm the Cheshire Punk. Keeper of the Pepsi and ruler of the Mome Raths."

"What is a Mome Rath?" Miz asked.

The Cheshire Punk flicked an ear in annoyance. "Why do people insist on coming to Wonderland if they don't know what a Mome Rath is?"

"I'm sorry…"

"It's of no matter. I'm sure your cat can educate you. In the meantime, would you like to hear a story?"

Miz tilted his head. "I guess so."

"Great. If you find someone who will tell you one, do let me know."

"But I thought you were going to tell me a story."

The Punk snorted. "What do I look like, a storyteller? I think… Hmm, yes. I may actually be insulted." He took a step back, seeming to fade.

"Wait!" Miz said. "I thought you were going to help me find my cat?"

"Ask the Queen," said the Punk.

"How do I find the Queen?"

The Punk paused, grinning at Miz. "Oh, all roads lead to the Queen eventually." And with that, he was gone. Miz searched for several minutes, but couldn't find a trace of the Punk.

"This is a strange place," he said to himself. "But I suppose I ought to make the best of it." He looked down to see a path at his feet, dust motes dancing in the air. "I don't think I can get any more lost." As he took his first steps, the motes danced and twisted around him, only pushing away when he raised a hand to shoo them. When he looked closer, he could see tiny faces on them, each with its mouth open wide in a miniscule scream that he couldn't hear. "Maybe they're yawning," he said. "Although why would dust yawn? But by that same token, why does dust do anything?"

Watching the motes dance made him sleepy, so it was some time before he realized that he was following not only the motes (which seemed thicker in the air than when he'd started), but also the sound of someone singing. The voice was pleasant, in a background sort of way.

He stepped into a clearing without realizing that he'd come through the trees. The dust was very thick in the air, and smelled like the pipe his grandfather used to smoke- cherry wood and cinnamon. It was reassuring, in a disorienting way. The smoke curled around him, making his eyes water. The voice continued to sing, and from what he could make out, the lyrics were strange.

My, my I'm a fishyfish guy

Swam to the levy, but the levy was dry

The good old fish were drinking saltwater and rye

Singing this will be the day that we fry.

Miz blinked, unsure what the words meant. "Hello?" he called out, cautiously. He coughed, and his eyes watered as the smoke brushed against him like a friendly cat. "Who's there?"

The singing stopped. "Who are you?" asked the voice. "It's rude to interrupt one when one is singing, especially on one's unbirthday."

Miz shook his head, more confused than ever. "What's an unbirthday?"

"Why do people insist on coming here when they don't know that?" asked the voice mournfully. The smoke swirled and cleared, revealing the strangest thing Miz had ever seen (and considering where he was, that was saying something). Ahead of him was a giant fishbowl, twice his size. Within the bowl, a large blue fish sat, its top half out of the water, one fin holding a hookah. It stared at Miz with its fishy eyes, unblinkingly.

"Edge?" Miz ventured, "Is that you?"

"Of course not," said the fish, eyeing him. "My name is Betsy, and I'm the caterpillar."

"I'm sorry, but you don't appear to be a caterpillar. You appear to be a fish."

The fish waved its free fin. "What I appear to be is no matter. It's what I am that counts, and I am the caterpillar. And you are?"

"Very confused," Miz muttered. "What was that song you were singing? And how is it that you're smoking?"

"How is it that you aren't?" asked Betsy. "I suspect that if you were on fire, you would be."

"Was that a threat?"

The fish burbled laughter. "How have you come to Wonderland, Very Confused?"

"How else does one come to Wonderland?" Miz asked. "It is a confusing place."

"It might be less so if you were to sing me a song."

"How would that make me less confused?" Miz asked.

"It works for me every time."

Miz eyed the fish. "Just what are you smoking, anyway?"

"Ah," said the fish with a watery sigh. "Dreams and memories. It's a lovely blend."


End file.
